


stitched shut

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But they learn I swear, Everyone but Deceit and Remus is kind of an asshole until the end, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Remus Sanders, dukeceit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: The others don't want him to lie? Fine. But he's choosing his own way of going about it.The others are horrified.





	stitched shut

Deceit looks in the mirror, studying the iridescent scales that trail down one side of his face, the eye that blazes yellow and screams _abnormal_ and _wrong_. The scales that brand him the bogeyman, the snake from the garden, come to tempt Thomas to sin. The devil on his shoulder, and nothing more.

How blind the others are. They know his true purpose. Morality even spoke it aloud to Thomas, after his first ill-fated appearance. Self-preservation. As if that is something to be scoffed at. As if his job isn't just as important as the rest, if not more so. They taunt him and mock him, forcing him out, treating his very appearance as something diseased, a foul tumor to be excised from Thomas at the earliest opportunity.

Very well. He shakes his head, looking down at the supplies neatly lined up in front of him. It has come to this. Perhaps it is foolish. But it is this, he muses as he picks up the threaded needle, steeling himself against the pain. This or disappearing into the subconscious, ducking out and fading away like Virgil tried. He is not quite there yet. He can't force himself there, thanks to his own self-preservation. Ironic, that.

This will have to do instead. After all... His mouth stretches wide in a painful mimicry of a smile, before he settles and begins the first stitch.

He can't lie if he can't speak.

His room darkens as he does it, until he is forced to squint into the mirror for the last few stitches. He can hear Remus coming down the hallway, and if he could frown, he would. Remus won't understand. Remus is loud and painfully honest and happy to be that way. He is gruesome and he has come to love it, because that was the only way _he_ could cope with it. If Deceit could talk, perhaps he could pretty this up with honeyed words and careful fumbles around the truth.

Then again, that's the problem this is supposed to solve.

"Dee Dee, are you in here?" Remus asks. Deceit sets the needle and thread down, dabbing away some of the blood crusting his mouth and chin, and stands, willing himself not to sway, as he turns around.

Remus's morning star thumps to the ground. His boyfriend stares at him in open-mouthed horror.

"Dee..." Remus breathes. "What have they made you _do_?" Deceit points at himself, trying to make Remus understand, but Remus shakes his head, suddenly furiously, blindingly angry.

"It's their fault," he hisses. "You- Dee, your poor _mouth_-" He dry heaves. Deceit wonders why. Surely this is nothing worse than the thoughts that pass through Remus's head and express themselves in his part of the imagination on a daily basis. He's seen ill-formed horrors that beat a few stitches by a land slide.

"You're coming with me," Remus decides. Before Deceit can protest, Remus has linked one arm tightly through his, and sunk out.

They land in Thomas's living room, behind the television. The others turn, startled. Thomas must be preparing for a video, Deceit thinks idly. His head won't stop swimming and he wishes Remus would let him sit down. He ducks his head, trying to keep his mouth from view. If _Remus_ nearly threw up seeing it, he's not ready to see anyone else's reaction. He's sure they'll be pleased, though. They might act horrified or tell him that they wish he hadn't done it, but he'll still be able to taste the lies in their words, sense the sickly relief lurking behind wet eyes and choked voices.

"What are you two doing here?" Virgil spits out defensively, his shoulders hunched and his arms wrapped around himself.

"What have you _done_ to him?" Remus hisses, shaking Deceit. He wobbles, his stomach lurching.

"We haven't done anything!" Patton says. "Why- why would you think we had?"

"Get out of here, Remus," Roman contributes. Their words shouldn't hurt, and yet the truth in them stings. "Take Jack the Fibber with you."

"No," Remus says. "Oh no, I'm not going anywhere. Not until you see what your- your _bullshit_ has _done_. You didn't want a liar, right? You didn't want _Deceit_-"

"Well, of course not," Patton says. "Lying is _wrong_." Remus cackles, and the sound is crazed. Deceit winces.

"Well, that won't be a problem anymore!" Remus says brightly. Too bright, it stings and scrapes against Deceit's brain like a needle. He jerks Deceit's head up, showing off Deceit's handiwork to a chorus of shocked and horrified intakes of breath. Patton even lets out a tiny whimper when he sees it.

With careful, even stitches, Deceit has stitched his mouth shut.

"You can't lie if you can't _talk_!" Remus says, in mimicry of Deceit's earlier thoughts. "That's what you wanted, right? Want me to do it, too? Or just rip out my tongue? I could do it right now-" He motions toward his mouth and shockingly, Roman is the one who lunges toward him, yanking his arm down.

"No!" Roman blurts out. He's so pale Deceit wonders if he's going to pass out. "No, I didn't- I-"

"_Deceit,_" Virgil whispers. He's sprawled on the steps, and he looks horrified.

"No, no, you don't get to act like you care," Remus says, wagging his finger at the shocked tableau. "You never did before, you don't get to _pretend_."

_Thanks, Remus,_ Deceit thinks. 

"I never wanted him to do that!" Thomas protests, his face sickly.

Before anyone can say anything else, Deceit feels his last precarious grip on consciousness slip away and he sags to his knees, blacking out just as Remus catches him up in his arms, pressing him to his chest.

He awakens to find himself lying on the couch. Remus is kneeling next to him, sighing loudly in relief when Deceit's eyes open.

"Don't try to talk," Remus says hastily. "You stitched your mouth shut. Do you- do you remember?" Deceit nods slowly.

"We're so sorry," Patton says, from somewhere behind Remus. Deceit's brow furrows in confusion. The sweet tang of truth bursts over his tongue. He doesn't understand.

"Deceit, I- I know I've been an asshole to you, but I never wanted you to hurt yourself." Virgil's voice, and again, truth wells up in his mouth. Deceit shakes his head, frustrated tears leaking down his cheeks.

"Deceit, if you are amenable, I can remove the stitches," Logan says. He sounds distraught, and Deceit blinks in surprise. Even _Logic_?

"Well?" Remus prompts. Deceit hesitates before finally nodding. He can always re-do them later if he has to. If it turns out that this is nothing but a lie in the end, them playing the long game because they've realized they need him after all, despite their distaste.

It hurts. It hurts more than putting them in did, though Logan is gentle. Perhaps it's because Deceit has returned to himself, perhaps it is Remus's constant, low stream of chatter grounding him in the here and now. Finally, though, it is done, and Deceit can open his mouth again (though it is still painful. He imagines it will be for a while).

"Thank you," Deceit says very carefully. It is hard to move his mouth, but he thinks he manages well enough. Logan nods stiffly, moving back, and letting the others fill in.

"Deceit, I'm so sorry," Virgil says. His eyes are red-rimmed. "I've been a dick."

"I'm afraid I have to agree," Roman says heavily. "I know that I treat you like- well, like a villain, but you're not. You are one of Thomas's sides, after all, and you're important."

"More important than we really think about," Patton adds. "I'm sorry, too, I should _know_ better." He bites his lip, looking distressed.

"It's-" Deceit pauses. No. It's not all right. That would be a lie. "I believe it will be all right in the future," he settles on. "Thank you."

"You're important," Thomas says. "I need to treat you better. You _and_ Remus. I'm sorry." Remus looks surprised. Surprised and grateful. Deceit smiles tentatively, despite the pain throbbing in his mouth.

Perhaps he can be heard, after all.


End file.
